Avoiding The Inevitable

a few days before thanksgiving, i initiated a stupid argument with my wife. an embarrassment.  i’m concerned that it is necessary to a acknowledge a decline in my mood.  i heard myself making a Queegian command. “I will not be made a fool of! Do you hear me?”

i had been napping in the late afternoon.  late afternoon naps are a luxury i’ve learned to enjoy.  its not a natural thing for me to do.  i’m always “up”.  until i crash.

as i said, it was in the evening by now and i love to watch Jeopardy.   i’m looking forward to it.  but i over slept.  dancing with the stars is over.  i’ve been out for four hours.  okay.  no big deal.

but no!  i go ballistic.   with wheelchair on high speed, i charge in the room, screaming st my wife, You didn’t wake me up!  You didn’t wake me up!  As if i were her responsibility to do that.

As if that weren’t enough, i unleashed a set of epithets that were unnecessary at best and  hurtful at worst.   well, thank God, she knows enough to avoid the trap laid before her.

we didn’t talk for a day and a half after that.  in our younger days the cold shoulder could last a week.  i know it takes two to argue, but i also know how wound.  for her emotional safety, at times in the past, her physical safety, its best not to fuck with me.

but i thought those days were past me now.  Well, like Jack Nicholson said, Here’s Johnnie!  looking back, i had THAT look in my eye.

I knew immed…., no, not immediately.  it was over an hour that i was prancing around like that.  and like i said my history precedes me…she was wise to leave.  which is what she did.  to the other room.  in the past…   …   …always in the past…   …   …i would follow her, taunting her.  i’m embarrassed to say that, at times, we fought with knives.  i like say, i could have been in jail, or worse.  this time, at least i didn’t make things worse.  but i expect more from myself.

i thought i had learned.  i think i should have….?  What?

Fish says, “you’re bipolar, remember.  its what we do”  Well Duh!!  but somethings have consequences.  the game is called “Truth OR Consequences”.  in fact, its should be Truth AND Consequences.  thing happen with knives that people don’t expect.  tell that to a jury!

When i get into this guilt cycle, that when i get way, way down.  Shame, embarrassment, take over.  as they should.

as a result, i’m being vewwy, vewwy qwiet.  as Elmer says.    what will happen next.  Shame is my trigger.  clumsy is my middle name.  and my first name is oaf. 

i’m outspoken now, in the past i was soft spoken.  afraid.   i’ve over come that now.  now i can curse like a sailor.  i can regale you with Shakespearean epithets.  but inside is the scared little boy. 

once, in high school, i was to make an oral report about my parents.  in front of the entire i exclaimed, “my parents are really a nice couple guys.”.  it’s 50 years and i can still hear the laughter.

clumsy, clumsy, clumsy.  i don’t want to go down the tubes over something silly like that.


6 thoughts on “Avoiding The Inevitable

  1. I had written a great reply to the previous comment, but it fell into the Blackberry void when the last one went haywire. I am the great destroyer of Blackberries.

    I had always wondered if it was fueled by the negative emotional reaction that is sparked and immediately followed by a defense mechanism. It’s as if I can see it in his eyes, the acknowledgement, followed by the hurt, followed by the anger. And it’s all in milliseconds. (Thank you, Paul Eckman and your books on microexpressions!)

    It’s different in my head. When being provoked with a comment, I am only infuriated when it’s under certain circumstances. If I’m being “picked on”, or confronted about something I’m sensitive anout, I’ll respond viciously. If it is something designed to hurt my pride, I will attack. I will not stand for taking blows for something I had nothing to do with or something I have no control over (sans actions that take place when in an episode). If I know I’m guilty, i will fall apart over it.

    The fighting part is the problem. Either, he’ll dodge me or alienate me. I’d rather just face it and get it over with, making me the antagonist. Maybe I am, I don’t know. But, it is far more painful, distracting, and exhausting to carry it with me over a period of time. Maybe he can shake it, but I can’t.

    When it finally does come out into the light, it’s an all out verbal brawl. Well, it was. Something has happened recently where we can actually talk about sensitive issues and suddenly we are in tune with each other again. Just like it used to be before our son was born – which was the time I became horribly symptomatic for the first time in our relationship.

    We have always been extremely symbiotic beings toward one another. We’re often in each other’s heads. But, sometimes it’s like being in a foreign land you’ve only visited a handful of times with a language that you are only vaguely familiar with. As in, he’s French, living in France and I’m German, living in Germany. Often, we’re meeting in our favorite coffee shop in England, speaking English. But there is still a language barrier.

    Right now, we have our passports up to date, and we’re traveling freely between each others borders. The language is becoming clearer.

    It’s not often that a man will admit that it really hurts. Women are easier fooled than men think.

    1. I’m still confused about the commenting process on wordpress. i get particularly silly when i get confused. then i fall in love with my silliness. and i can’t stop! don’t want to I can recite the jabberwock [sic] in my sleep.


      Oh well, H.G. said, after writing “War of the Worlds”.

      Shit! Here we go again!!!!

  2. I don’t know if you noticed my reply. I felt you were asking a legitimate question and I wanted to answer it. Do we want to talk more? Is this format acceptable?

    Are my questions a bother? What do want for dessert? What do you think about the Orioles? Isn’t the desert lovely this time if the year? Why are there so many more horses asses than there are horses? Do you like to tango? Are petunias your favorite? Should I stop now?

    I guess.


    1. Did I miss something? LOL, my life has been a total mess since my other Blackberry bit the dust! If I did, give me a nudge, point it out. Lamictal makes the absent-mindedness worse. I guess what they say about blondes is true. Funny, I scored well while testing. Hmm.

      I love talking to you. You are insightful and I read every post, though I may not respond. It’s always a pleasure to hear your take.

      Never a bother. Did you read my post on The Mood Swing Diet. Any of those desserts will do. My blood sugar is too high right now. I ate too much chocolate and made myself out of sorts. Emotional eating. My grandmother just had a stroke.

      I’m great at oversharing.

      Never been to a desert, don’t watch sports – unless the Steelers are in the playoffs. I’m in Pittsburgh after all. It’s an unwritten law. My husband’s father was a star minor league player that made the majors and then bummed his knee. My husband has an amazing arm. My son has an amazing arm. And the only thing I got were incredible fingers. 75WPM, 98% accuracy, can play six instruments.

      Daisies. The white ones. And I like when they’re in a bouquet after they’ve been colored with dye too. Gorgeous white daisies.

      And you? Speak any foreign languages? Any famous people in your family? Have you ever written a word so many times that you forgot how to spell it? What’s the oddest feat you ever accomplished?

      1. You were just riffing along with my madness, weren’t? They weren’t real questions, just run on impulses. But I’ll play too.

        Never learned Yiddish. My parents spoke fluently but they used it so they could ABOUT me, commenting on me, like, “Whatever will we do with that odd one”.

        I studied Spanish in high school and now I can speak to my cleaning lady, but she looks at me funny when I do.

        I laughed out loud during Russian freshman lecture when he teacher told me to say “teats”. And was embarrassed to speak at all until I was in graduate school. [NO! But, but it makes for a great story”]

        I was in French classes for 3 years, except that I CAN only say “je ne sais qua”, but I don’t know what it means. All I know when I shrug and say it, people seem to understand.

        True story: My aunt’s husband was a cousin/friend of Xavier Cugat and sang in his band. Abby Lane. 20 degrees of separation. Here’s one video of her & Xavier selling wine. There are others.

        “Sex”. Does it come before I or me. Or she!

        And last of all, I rode side saddle on Ralph Testa’s Vespa, in the fog and rain, across the Far Rockaway Bridge in Brooklyn, after a fraternity party, at Floyd Bennett Military Airfield, when I was in the Air Force ROTC. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Floyd_Bennett_Field

        Now you know all my secrets.


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